This story takes place
in an alternate universe setting spun off from events at
the close of season six of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Willow and Buffy are dead, Giles and Xander have left
town and Dawn is trying to figure out her 'destiny' with
a little help from the ghost of Tara Maclay and an angel
called Zauriel, not to mention her friends Janice, Drew,
Chrissie and Helena. For more information, go and read the stories preceeding this one. Fallen
Angel, As
I Am Now and Trick
or Treat mark
the first appearances of characters that play important
roles in this series, but the stories are hardly
essential reading to understand this tale. The epic
really begins in Finale and continues through Prelude, with Summoned
by Shadows
forming a bridge between what has gone before and what is
yet to come. Speaking of which, now that we've all caught
up, let's begin...

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

War
in Heaven

by
Duncan Johnson

Episode One - The
Crew

King Mortimer looked
down from his throne and smiled.

Well, it wasn't a
throne as such, just a normal-sized wooden chair. That
said, given that everyone else in the school hall had to
sit on those itty-bitty chairs designed for five
year-olds, he reckoned he could count his chair as a
throne. Truth be told, Mort was not really a king, but
the local vampires looked up to him because, unlike them,
he had been sired in Sunnydale, home of the Slayer, and
lived to tell the tale. Okay, so Mort had high-tailed it
out of town that same night, but his adoring supporters
didn't need to know that, did they?

And, when all was said
and done, Mort's smile would be more accurately called a
grimace.

Kneeling in front of
him - Mort liked it when his minions were on their knees
- was Geoff. Geoff the vampire. Hardly a name to conjure
with, Mort felt, but you had to make do with what you
could get. And why was it Geoff always had to be the
bearer of bad news?

'My apologies, oh
glorious, brave and wise majesty,' Geoff grovelled, 'but
I bring bad news.' (You don't say, Mort thought to
himself.) 'Becca, Cornelius and me, we were, um, attacked
on the edge of town. Our assailant was big and powerful
and, um, probably had magic too - yeah, definitely magic
- and killed Becca and Cornelius. I fought as hard as I
could for as long as I could, but he was too powerful for
me, sire.'

Most likely, you ran
with your tail between your legs at the first sign of
trouble, Mort mused.

'You said 'he',' Mort
said slowly. 'Are you sure. It couldn't, possibly, be
that your assailant was a woman.'

Reston was a long way
from Sunnydale, but Mort still lived in fear that the
Slayer, perhaps having heard of his exploits, would one
day travel north to find him. Actually, the finding part
wasn't really the problem. It was what came after that
bothered Mort.

'No, sire,' Geoff
insisted, 'I think I would have noticed.'

Mort was not convinced.

'You, you and you,' he
said, picking out the three largest of his minions, 'go
and investigate. With extreme prejudice. I want this
person found. Better yet, killed!'

Then the doors to the
school hall were flung open and three men strode in.

'Why don't we just save
you the trouble,' the man in front drawled.

Mort stared at them,
open-mouthed. 'But but '

'What?' the intruder
demanded. 'You were expecting someone else?'

* * *

Pike didn't have to
tell his people what to do. They had been through enough
scrapes by now to know how to function as a unit without
him constantly shouting advice in their ears. That suited
him just fine because he didn't rate his abilities as a
leader anyway. Funny how things turned out.

They had the element of
surprise and, since that was probably the only advantage
they had, Pike was going to make it count. Stake in each
hand, he flowed through the throng of vampires, tatty
grey overcoat billowing behind him. The vampires tried to
rise up to meet him, but got caught up in the tiny
chairs, unable to provide any kind of counter to Pike's
well-aimed stake thrusts. For now.

Pike could hear Owen
bellowing nearby, taunting the vampires while swinging
his sword with abandon. He was going to get himself
killed and sooner rather than later. Pike had tried
speaking to him about it, but his advice never seemed to
get through. Owen treated it all like a game, like
Dungeons and Dragons without the dice, and nothing Pike
said was going to change that. More than once, Pike had
considered abandoning him by the side of the road
somewhere, but he had to admit that Owen knew how to
handle a sword. Besides which, Pike felt responsible for
him. On his own, Owen wouldn't last five minutes. At
least this way, he has Pike and the others to watch his
back.

A vampire in a cowboy
hat loomed behind Pike and snarled.

'Do that again and I
will stake you,' Pike said, but it was an empty threat
and they both knew it. Lyle Gorch was far and away the
strongest member of the group and Pike needed him.
Fortunately, Gorch needed Pike as well. Something was
after him, something pretty big and powerful if the fear
in Gorch's eyes was any indication. Pike had offered
Gorch his protection in return for the vampire's
help and his promise to abstain from feeding on
humans for the duration. Gorch had agreed without
reservation, which told Pike all he needed to know about
whatever it was he was running from. One of these days,
their deal was going to come back to haunt Pike, but
there was always the possibility that they would all get
themselves killed long before then so he tried not to
worry about it.

He just took things one
day - and one vampire - at a time.

* * *

Mort knew a lost cause
when he saw one and it took him all of three seconds to
make up his mind to start up a new kingdom in some other
town. Using his 'throne' as a step, Mort clambered up the
wall to the narrow window. Kingship had been good for
Mort and he had grown fat. For one horrid moment, he
feared that he was too fat to get through the opening,
that he would be stuck up there until someone took pity
on him and staked him. However, terror must be slimming
because all of a sudden he popped through the window like
a greased pig and landed on the damp grass outside.

He struggled to get up.

'I wouldn't bother if I
were you,' a female voice advised him.

'Who said that?' Mort
asked. It was supposed to be a demand, but it came out as
more of a whimper.

He glanced around. It
was dark, but as with cats, vampire's eyes were adapted
to make best use of any available light. That said, he
still could not see the person talking to him.

'You know,' she said,
'you look so pitiful down there.' Mort could feel her
breath on his ear as she whispered to him, but he still
could not see her. 'I've half a mind to let you go.'

'Please,' Mort begged.

She was a ghost, she
must be. The ghost of one of his victims come back to
haunt him.

'Pathetic,' the woman
spat. 'Of course, if I did let you go then I'd just have
to hunt you down all over again. Wherever you went, there
I'd be. And you'd never know because - and I don't know
if you've noticed this yet - I'm invisible.'

If she was a ghost,
Mort mused, then she probably was not solid. And that
meant she could not really hurt him. Deciding he had
nothing left to lose, he tried to get to his feet.

Someone shoved him back
down to the ground.

'Naughty, naughty,' the
woman sang. 'You know, tempting as the chase sounds, I've
not got a very long attention span, or so I'm told. I
reckon I'd get bored pretty quick. Best to just put an
end to it now before we both end up disappointed.'

'But ' Mort
begged.

His eyes widened as
they focussed on the stake hovering apparently
unsupported in the air in front of him. It was the last
thing Mort ever saw.

* * *

Pike hefted the crate
of supplies up and into the back of the van. Gorch,
already inside the van and hiding from the sun, took the
crate from him and found somewhere to stow it securely.
Reston's inhabitants had been more than generous in
rewarding the people who had rid their town of their
vampire problem, at least in Pike's opinion. He would
have settled for just a full tank of gas for the van.
Owen would have settled for even less - he was just in
this for the glory, which suited Pike just fine because
he hated being the centre of attention. It was Gorch and
Marcie who were the mercenary ones within their little
band.

Gorch lay down on one
of the two wooden benches they had set up in the back of
the van, draped a blanket over himself and tipped his
Stetson down over his eyes.

'Can't say as I rightly
know,' Gorch replied, 'but I'd be lying if I said I
hadn't thought 'bout drinking you up. That's my nature,
after all, and don't you be forgetting it.'

'I won't,' Pike
promised, mentally chiding himself. He had
forgotten it. Gorch had been hanging around so long know
that Pike had a hard time imagining the group without
him. He had to keep reminding himself that Gorch was a
wild animal, caged, but by no means tamed.

'Come on, Owen, time to
go,' Pike said, literally having to drag Owen away from
the kids who had gathered around him to hear how he had
vanquished the evil vampires. Single-handedly, of course.

'Can't we stay just a
bit longer,' Owen protested. 'These people love us.'

'No,' Marcie corrected.
'One of these days you're going to think you've
left me behind.'

* * *

They drove in relative
silence. Owen was lost in a book of poetry he had picked
up in Reston and Gorch was trying to get some sleep.
Marcie was humming to herself. Pike could not decide
whether it was because she liked the tune or because it
annoyed Gorch. Probably both.

That left Pike with his
thoughts.

Not for the first time,
he found himself wondering why he still did this. Not the
travelling from pace to place. He had never been one for
putting down roots. He had thought about it once, maybe,
but that had been a long time ago, back at the beginning.
It wasn't worth wasting time on now. But who in their
right mind would deliberately go looking for demons?
Well, Pike would, but he never claimed to be in his right
mind.

The problem was that,
once you let Jack out of the box, it was very, very
difficult to force him back in. He had, however much he
wished he hadn't, been exposed to the fact that vampires
were undeniably real. He had been forced to accept that
there was more to the world than most people believed.
And, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't go back to
living his life in ignorance.

But that didn't mean he
had to do anything about it, right? He wished. It wasn't
his problem, none of it was, but every night he spent in
a comfy bed, away from the night terrors, was a night
when someone died. Someone he might have been able to
save. And so every night he spent away from the terrors
was a night alternating between sleeplessness and
nightmares.

So, reluctantly, he
went back out and he did his best - which back then
wasn't terribly impressive - to fight back the dark. She
had been fifteen if she had been a day, dressed, if that
was the right word, as if she was looking for a good
time. And he, in his leather jacket and luminous green
shirt, was more than happy to give it to her, right there
in the alley behind the room Pike rented on behalf of the
cockroaches. Well, the girl was kind of cute and Pike
hated the thought that a promising life might be snuffed
out all because she wasn't the sharpest knife in the
drawer, so he had gone out there to give the guy what
for.

It never occurred to
him that she might be the vampire.

All told, as rescues go
it was pretty shambolic, but it marked Pike's return to
active duty against the undead. And he found he slept
much better as a result.

* * *

'Are you sure she's
going to be here?' Owen asked, draining his glass.

The club was in a
converted warehouse. From the outside, it looked like all
the other abandoned buildings in this district, so you
really had to know it was here to be able to find it,
though judging by the mass of writhing young bodies on
the dance-floor, word must get around.

'You saw the poster,
didn't you?' Pike replied. His glass sat on the table in
front of him, but remained untouched. He wanted to keep a
clear head tonight.

'I saw an ad for some
band called Xtreme, fronted by a gal called Crystal,'
Gorch drawled. 'Hardly conclusive evidence.' He belched
and handed his empty glass to Owen. 'Your round, boy.'

'And don't forget me
this time,' Marcie said. She was drinking hers through a
straw. It was slightly more discreet than the floating
effect whenever she lifted a glass to her lips.

'Less of the clean,
thank you very much,' Marcie retorted. 'I don't think I'm
ever going to get the blood out of that outfit.'

'Shoot, it's not like a
body's going to notice,' Gorch pointed out.

'I'd notice,' Marcie
told him.

'Whatever,' Pike cut
them off. 'We're a man down and I'd feel better of we had
more muscle.'

'We're doing all right
so far,' Gorch said.

'Against the
all-powerful King Mort and a dozen or so vampires even
more pathetic than he was,' Pike replied. 'Let's face it,
it was hardly our most challenging encounter.'

Marcie laughed. 'Yeah,
you guys should have seen him, curled up in the dirt,
mewling like a baby for me to spare his life. Shame I
didn't have more time to enjoy myself.'

Pike and Gorch stared
at the seemingly empty chair Marcie was sitting on.

'What?' she asked.

'Hey guys,' Owen said,
returning with drinks. 'Did I miss anything.'

'Actually,' Pike
replied, turning towards the activity on stage, 'looks
like you're just in time.'

The singer who called
herself Crystal strode out in front of her band and
coiled her arms around the microphone. When she opened
her mouth to sing, it was with a voice that was deep, raw
and sexual in a primitive, animal lust way.

The band took a break
between sets and Pike took the opportunity to slip
backstage.

'Gary can we do this
another time,' 'Crystal' said when she heard the door to
her dressing-room open. 'An argument will only stretch my
vocal cords and we wouldn't want to disappoint the fans
now, would we?'

Veruca stood up and
crossed the room so that she was very definitely inside,
Pike's personal space.

'So, are we just going
to dance around one another all night,' she asked, 'which
I can't say I'd mind, or are you going to tell me why
you're here?'

'I need your help,'
Pike said simply.

'Really,' Veruca
purred, running a hand over, Pike's shirt. 'And how can I
help you, Pike?'

'I want you to help me
hunt demons,' Pike replied.

'What?' Veruca shouted,
shoving him away. 'Are you completely out of your mind.'

'Probably,' Pike shot
back. 'But someone's got to do it.'

'Isn't that what the
Slayer's for?' Veruca asked.

'Bu the Slayer
can't be everywhere,' Pike explained. 'You and I aren't
like normal people.'

'Got that right,'
Veruca remarked.

'We know what's out
there,' Pike continued. 'Most people haven't got a clue
and so they serve themselves up as welcoming platters to
the first demon they unwittingly come across.'

'And I should care
because?'

'Because you have the
power to do something about it,' Pike persisted. 'I've
put a group of people together. We help people.'

'What, like the
A-Team?' Veruca retorted. 'Count me out. There's only one
person I'm interested in helping and she's right here.'

Pike released the
breath he had been holding and it whistled between his
teeth.

'And what happens when
I tell your band who you really are,' he said, 'and what
you really are?'

'You wouldn't.'

'Try me.'

'That's blackmail,'
Veruca pointed out.

'It's worked before,'
Pike replied.

Veruca shook her head.
'No, you wouldn't do that to me. You've got too much of
the all-American hero about you.'

Pike shrugged. 'It's
your life you're gambling with. I'll be around if you
want to talk.'

Then he turned and left
Veruca to stew.

* * *

'So how did it go,
boss-man?' Owen asked when Pike returned to the table.

'About as well as I
expected,' Pike admitted.

'By which you mean she
told you where you could stick your grand plan,' Marcie
deduced.

'So did you first time,
as I recall,' Pike told her.

'I'm only saying,'
Marcie said.

'Well don't,' Pike
said. 'They're starting again.'

'Something's staring,'
Owen announced. 'Look!'

Cracks were appearing
in the club's ceiling, letting in the moonlight. Metal
creaked and one set of spotlights fell to the ground in a
shower of sparks, narrowly missing a cluster of clubbers.
Then a fireball smashed a hole straight through the roof
and, writhing in the heart of that fireball, were two
battling figures. Screams droned out the music as young
people ran in any direction so longs as it was away from
the blazing conflagration in the heart of the club.

'Owen, help get people
out of here!' Pike ordered. 'Gorch, Marcie, follow me.'

'Why can't I come with
you?' Owen asked.

'Because no one can see
Marcie,' Pike pointed out, 'and Gorch is, in case you've
forgotten, a vampire and he just might decide that the
best way to solve the problem is to reduce the number of
people needing to find the exit.'

Owen didn't argue any
further.

'Can you see what they
are?' Pike asked as he and the others approached the two
figures, still shrouded in flames.

'I can't see much of
anything,' Gorch admitted, shielding his eyes from the
light.

At that point, the
club's sprinkler system kicked in.

'Oh, this is just
typical,' Marcie complained. 'Another outfit ruined.'

'I don't suppose anyone
thought to bring a sword?' Pike remarked as the flames
were quenched, only to be replaced by smoke and steam.
'Thought not.'

'Who needs a sword,'
Gorch said, his face morphing as he unleashed the demon
within.

The smoke was clearing
and Pike could now clearly see two humanoid figures -
humanoid figures with wings - going at one another
with swords.

'We could just leave
'em to it,' Gorch suggested.

'Tempting,' Pike
conceded, 'but they've already caused enough damage.
Let's break this up and then they can settle whatever
grievance they have using paper, rock, scissors.'

'Then let's not keep
them waiting,' Gorch declared, charging forward.

He fell to his knees
clutching his chest. Pike raced to his side.

'Gorch, what is it?' he
asked. 'What did they do?'

'Burns ' was all
the vampire could manage.

'Damn,' Pike muttered.

He looked desperately
for some kind of weapon. He picked up a chair. It was
awkward to swing, but it was better than nothing. Of
course, if these two could take out their heavy hitter
without even looking up, maybe now would be a good time
to start looking for the nearest exit.

One of the winged
people stuck his sword right through his opponent and the
impaled creature fell to the ground. The one still
standing turned to face Pike. The glare of those burning
red eyes made Pike feel very small indeed.

'Marcie, drop him!' he
ordered.

Marcie grabbed the
microphone and swung it at the creature's back. Without
turning, the creature swatted her away backhanded. The
microphone landed on the stage. Pike had no idea where
Marcie had ended up.

'Human,' the creature
sneered. 'We gave everything for you. We dedicated our
lives to you, but still you prove the ultimate
disappointment. It will be a relief to cleanse this
place.'

'Hey, we didn't ask you
here,' Pike retorted. 'I don't know what your quarrel is
with kebab-boy down there, but you had no right to bring
it in here.'

'No right,' the
creature boomed. 'Look upon me in my majesty, human, and
tell me that I have no right!'

The creature spread its
wings, feathered like a swan's, and began to glow with a
white light that burned the soot and darkness from its
clothing.

'Do you recognise me
now, human?' the creature asked.

'No way,' Pike
breathed. He refused to believe it, refused to process
the fact that the creature standing in front of him
looked exactly like an angel.

'My right, human, is
the divine will itself,' the angel declared, 'and it is
the divine will that this world be unmade. The grand
design has failed and it is time to start anew.'

'Divine will or not,'
Pike said, 'that's my planet you're talking about and
I'll be damned if I let it go without a fight.'

'Than damned thou shalt
be,' the angel mocked.

With inhuman speed, the
angel grabbed hold of one of the legs of the chair Pike
was holding. Pike released the chair in shock as it
crumbled to dust at the angel's touch.

'You're next, human,'
the angel promised.

Motes of light floated
before the angel's outstretched wings, dancing
candle-flames of

Bright primary colours.
Their movement was hypnotic and Pike found himself unable
to run as the angel advanced upon him.

'Be not afraid, mortal
man,' the angel told him. 'I still know what it is to be
merciful. You shall feel no pain.'

'Damn right he won't!'
Veruca said as she barrelled into the angel, fur and
feathers rolling across the dance-floor.

'I knew humans were
little more than beasts, but this was unexpected,' the
angel announced, forcing the werewolf away from him.

Veruca growled at him,
ready to spring.

'Perhaps another time,'
the angel said. Then, with a single beat of his massive
wings, he propelled himself up and out of the hole in the
roof.

Pike stumbled forward,
no longer held in place by the angel's magic.

'Veruca, he said
softly, approaching the wolf cautiously, 'is that you?'

The werewolf shivered
and the fur was drawn back into her body as Pike watched
until where there had been a wolf there was now a naked
woman huddled on the cold floor.

'I thought you didn't
want to help,' Pike said, shucking off his jacket and
draping it over Veruca's shoulders.

Veruca rolled her head
to get the kinks out of her neck.

'Like I'm going to let
a good-looking guy like you get mauled by an overgrown
Christmas Tree decoration,' she remarked.

'I appreciate the
save,' Pike told her.

'Shall we go somewhere
more private so you can show me just how grateful you
are?' Veruca teased.

'Fine. Whatever,'
Veruca conceded. 'But what's to stop him flying back up
to wherever it is he came from?'

'I think he's injured,'
Pike explained. 'It's hard to tell, but I reckon the
fight that brought him here took a lot out of him.'

'Would explain why he
didn't kill us when he had the chance,' Veruca agreed.

'It also means we have
a fighting chance,' Pike added, hefting the sword.

'You really are insane,
you know that,' Veruca said.

'Is that a problem?'
Pike asked.

Veruca looked him up
and down, appraising him.

'Not necessarily.'

She sniffed the air.

'He's in here,' she
said.

'What was your first
clue?' Pike commented, examining the door that had been
torn off of its hinges.

He started to enter,
but Veruca put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to
pause.

'I can smell blood,'
she told him. 'Lots of blood.'

The mother was on the
stairs, her back broken over the banister. The father,
what was left of him, decorated the living-room.

Veruca growled, her
beast rising close to the surface.

'We'll get this guy,'
Pike promised her as they began to slowly climb the
stairs.

The carpet was matted
with blood and there was a squelching, sucking noise with
each step they took. Veruca took off Pike's jacket.

'Hate to ruin this when
I change,' she explained.

Then she shook herself
and fur sprouted all over her body. Her face elongated
into a wolf-like snout and she dropped to all fours. The
wolf nodded towards a door at the end of the landing.
Pike kicked it open.

'Ah, the human and his
pet,' the angel said. 'I thought that you were following
me.'

He stood in front of
the window, silhouetted in the moonlight. In his arms he
held a little girl, who quietly sucked her thumb.

'I wouldn't come any
closer, if I were you,' the angel warned, 'or I might be
forced to harm this child.'

Veruca roared and
sprang. With a sudden burst of speed, the angel
side-stepped and the force of Veruca's leap carried her
through the window. Glass shattered as the werewolf fell
into the street below.

The angel turned
towards Pike.

'Now, you strike me as
someone more sensible than your colleague,' he said,
playing absently with the girl's blonde hair, 'so I'll
give you a simple choice. Drop the sword or I snap the
child's neck.'

'Help me.'

Owen looked up. At
first he had thought that he had imagined the voice, but
then he heard it again, weak and reed-thin, but
definitely there.

'Help me.'

It was coming from the
corpse, the winged creature that had been run through by
that sword.

'I'm here,' Owen told
the creature. 'How can I help?'

The creature's eyelids
fluttered open, revealing golden orbs beneath. Not a
corpse then, Owen deduced, but not by much.

The creature coughed up
blood.

'I am Variel,' he
explained. 'I am was one of the chosen selected to
preserve the Grand Design.'

'What are you talking
about?' Owen asked.

'They think that the
Design is lost,' Variel continued, 'but they are wrong.
There is still a chance. They want to start over, but we
believe this world can still be saved.'

'So you're one of the
good guys?' Owen reasoned.

Variel tried to smile,
but the movement caused him pain.

'I remember when one
could have considered all of the angels 'good guys',' he
said. 'Would that that were the case again. Bruriel, he
with whom I fought, he was a spy within our ranks. He
learned of our plans so that he might undo them. If he
returns to his fellows, he '

Variel choked and his
whole body shook.

'Variel!' Owen shouted,
taking hold of the angel. 'Variel, talk to me! What will
happen if he gets back? Tell me.'

But Variel was gone.

* * *

Pike dropped the sword
and it clattered on the floor.

'There's a good boy,'
Bruriel said.

Then he snapped the
girl's neck.

'No!' Pike shouted.
'Why? Why did you have to kill her? I did what you
wanted. She was an innocent.'

'No one is innocent,'
Bruriel insisted, 'or haven't you heard of Original Sin?'

Pike's vision clouded.
A red mist rose in front of his eyes.

'What in hell's name
are you?' he demanded.

'Hell?' Bruriel
laughed. 'I have seen Hell, little man. I have fought in
the border wars all my life. There are things in Hell the
very sight of which would liquefy your mortal eyes. No, I
am not a spawn of Hell. I am a soldier in the glorious
legions of Heaven!'

'No!' Pike shouted.

He crouched down and
his fingers closed around the hilt of the sword.

'No!'

He swung the blade high
over his head.

'No!'

Sparks flew as the
heavy blade struck the angel's armour.

'No! No! No!'

Pike swung the sword
again and again and again, his rage driving the angel
back.

'I don't know what you
are,' Pike said, 'but you're no angel. You're not worthy
of the name.'

He brought the sword
down time and again, ignoring the protests of his aching
muscles as his anger and hatred drove him on, drove him
to wipe this creature completely out of existence.

Then he felt cool hands
upon his arms, gently encouraging him to lower the blade.

'Is there something I'm
missing here?' Veruca asked. 'I'm not exactly Buffy's
biggest fan, but what's the problem with going to her for
help.'

'We've had this
discussion before,' Marcie explained. 'Our great leader
is always going on about how we need to recruit more
people, but will he hear of recruiting the biggest gun
there is? No way.'

'The Slayer has her own
problems,' Pike said.

'Worse than angels
threatening to wipe humanity off the face of the planet?'
Owen demanded. 'Get real, Pike.'

'Kid's got a point,'
Gorch agreed. 'Don't take a genius to figure we need all
the help we can get on this one. And if that means that
Slayer, well, guess that means we're all taking a ride
back to Sunny-D.'

'Fine,' Pike snapped.
'Have it your way.'

He hauled himself up
into the driver's seat. Veruca clambered into the
passenger seat beside him.

'Room for one more?'
she asked.

'Thought you didn't
want to come with,' Pike replied.

'Thought you were going
to expose me if I didn't,' Veruca said.

'I was bluffing,' Pike
confessed.

'I know,' Veruca
replied. 'Don't bother trying to lie to a wolf. We can
smell it on you.'

'Guess I should have
thought of that,' Pike mused.

Veruca stretched he
arms high above her head.

'Any case, my cover
seems well and truly blown around here so I might as well
see where you're heading for a while.'

'Well, it looks like
we're going to Sunnydale,' Pike said. 'You sure you want
to go back there?'